Monday, 13 August 2012

I wonder why young parents-to-be ever want
to have baby girls. Why people don’t
want a girl child is fairly obvious by now in our country, what with the
extreme sexism and female foeticide. But really, would you want to bring a girl
into this world, who will then turn into a woman, and thus the sexual object of
desire for many? Hundreds and thousands of lustful eyes following her, trailing
down her body, stopping about eight inches below where they should. The
occasional bump, the intentional elbow, the malicious grab. If you live in
India, pray tell me, why would you want to bring another woman into this
disgustingly filthy world?

I must have been 10 or 11 when I first got
the ‘unintentional squeeze’. Unfortunately, it was from someone known and
trusted. Since then, the count has become innumerable—both from those trusted
and the unknown. Seven years ago when I moved to Bombay, all alone, knowing not
a soul, I was told by many that I could roam around the city in a tank top and
shorts, and no one would even give me a second glance. I took that comment with
a bucketful of salt, and thank God I did.

Still, I did feel more at ease in Bombay
where many other girls dressed like me. When I say dressed like me, don’t let
your imagination run away with you; I mean in jeans, well-fitted (not necessary
tight-to-the-point-of-exploding) t-shirts, skirts, etc. I could travel alone
till about 1am and feel like I would reach home without being molested, raped
or killed.

How things have changed. Today, even if I
step out of my house at 11am, I wonder whether I’ll come home alright. And even
if I come home, will there be someone already there, waiting for me? God forbid
I travel late at night alone—I am, of course digging my own grave.

At 26, I am decently proud of myself. I am
fairly settled, financially independent, with a good job and great sets of
friends in the city. Yet, every day I live in fear. Yet, every night I wonder
what I will have to tolerate tomorrow, who I will have to yell at. Will the
girl in the news be me next time? And believe me, no matter how many friends,
boyfriends, etc., you have, you’re on your own on this one.

No man—not my father, not my protective guy
friends, not my boyfriend, not my husband (whoever that may be)—will ever
understand the pain and fear that goes into being a woman, every single day.
They will look out for me, and try to protect me, but after a point, they will
tell me that there is no point in over-stressing and that whatever is meant to
happen, will. They will never understand the disgust and frustration and
helplessness I feel when someone grabs my breast or my crotch, or leers at
them, or tries to take a picture of me. For all of this, I am alone.Single in the city may sound fun and cool, but many times, it’s far from that.

Last October, two boys were killed for
trying to protect their female friends from the lewd gestures and unwanted advances
of a hooligan. A few days ago, a girl was brutally murdered in the comfort and
so-called security of her home for trying to resist being raped. And let’s not
start on the number of rape cases. It’ll take all day and then some.

In each of these cases, all I can think of
is, what if that was me? These incidents are simply too close to home. And when
I tell my friends or those close to me, they will nod sympathetically for a
while, give me an understanding hug and then carry on with their lives—even at
the risk of putting me or some other woman in danger, unintentionally, of
course. It’s always, ‘going out just for a few minutes’, ‘you’ll be alone just for
tonight’, or ‘dropping you home is too out of the way’. Well, one man’s
convenience is another’s lust fulfilled.

I pray every night, thanking God for
everything He has given me, and to keep the blessings coming. And in the same
breath, I beg Him to keep me and those around me safe and healthy. And I beg for
Him to stop these atrocities. Because, thanks to the internet, I always put a
face and life to the person killed. And then I can’t get her out of my mind.
Because I think, how much pain, what fear she must have felt to die alone. What
if...

No, I don’t think I want to have a baby
girl anymore. I’d rather have a baby boy, who I will raise to protect the
women, no matter what, and not maul them like the rest of the male race. No, I
don’t want to bring another girl into this world, into this country, to be
disrespected and tortured. No, I really don’t want to.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

So this might be my last post in a while.
Although, my last post before this was a while ago, too. So that’s a long
while. Anyhoo.

August is the month I have been waiting for
all year. August 2 is the day I’ve been waiting for months now. And it has
finally arrived. The day that my sister arrives, comes home after five long
years. You’d think that after a five-year long wait, the last few months would
pass in a jiffy. Nope. Slowest months, weeks, days and hours of our lives.

My sister and I have always been close; when
we were young and she bullied me, when we were living together and fighting,
when I would bully her, and even with miles and oceans between us. Super tight,
touchwood. To the extent that, sometimes, mom gets jealous of our tightness. She’s
my best friend, the one I spill all my beans to, the one I turn to for advice,
the one I complain to about my parents, my friends, my boyfriend...you get the
drift.

Being away from her has been hard, though
we eventually got used to it. But we still speak on the phone at least once a
week and online almost every day. I love technology. And I am still her baby,
so you can imagine how berserk she’s gone shopping for me.

The plan is that if we’re still single when
we grow old, we’ll move to Miami (or was it the Bahamas?) together and sip on cocktails
for the rest of our lives.

She also gets to finally meet my marad, so I am rather thrilled. It is a
big deal for me, for them to get to know each other.

This month promises to hold lots of love,
laughter, fun, some tears, and a decent amount of travel (finally!). Everyone
who knows me knows how excited I’ve been, and in a few hours, that excitement
will finally pay off. I will return and update y’all about my shenanigans of
August, but till then, have fun and love your siblings. You gotta, right?

P.S. I am grateful for this blog. Because
of my work craziness, I haven’t been able to write a single article or see my
byline in any magazine for months. I met my friend (who happens to be my former
editor) and she told me to keep writing every few days. And I realised, hey, I
do that with my blog! Once a writer, always a writer.

P.P.S. This post is mucho appropriate.
Today is raksha bandhan! Happy happy
to all of you!